


somewhere deep in the dark, howling beasts hear us talk

by bereft_of_frogs



Series: let the human in (whumptober 2020) [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Past Torture, Poisoning, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/pseuds/bereft_of_frogs
Summary: The next time the woman appears, he manages to entrap her in a quick web of spellwork. As she struggles in the spells, he approaches with a dagger loose in his hand.“Who are you?” he says. “How did you come to be in Thanos’s service?”The woman goes still. She tilts her head at him. “Who's Thanos?”Instead of going back to Asgard after nearly dying on Svartalfheim, Loki goes wandering. This is a far more dangerous choice, and Loki is stalked by agents of Thanos, looking to recapture him and return him to Sanctuary, to answer for his failures on Earth.And a mysterious sorceress, who has a much more vested interest in his death than the others. Curious.aka, Hela breaks out her prison a little earlier, and attempts to eliminate threats to her rule.
Relationships: Hela & Loki (Marvel)
Series: let the human in (whumptober 2020) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993756
Comments: 16
Kudos: 141
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	somewhere deep in the dark, howling beasts hear us talk

**Author's Note:**

> written for whumptober 2020, day 7: I've Got You (enemy to caretaker)
> 
> warnings: past torture, mention of suicidal thoughts
> 
> fic title: 'Yellow Light', Of Monsters and Men

Loki had not expected to wake up again, after he closed his eyes to Thor’s tear-streaked face on Svartalfheim. He expected that to be the end of Loki of Asgard.

It was, evidently, not.

Against odds, he survived the wound, survived the poison coating on the blade, and now here he was, on a forgotten moon far from Asgard’s influence, with not a clue what to do.

He is not a fool. He does not plan to walk back into a cell. Frankly, he has no idea how long it’s been since that day on Svartalfheim. Thor would be furious at being tricked again, forced to falsely mourn again. No. Loki died well, best to leave that alone for a while. He truly hasn’t a clue what to do with the sudden freedom of being dead.

There is another problem. While Asgard thinks him dead and gone, there are others with longer memories, and a vested interest in capturing him.

He senses the faintest trace of magic hovering near his refuge and decides it’s best not to stay in one place for too long. He slips through a crack in space and flees.

Months pass. Loki spends most of his time moving, hiding. Not the ideal existence, but all his other goals take a temporary backseat to surviving. Of course, he longs to live like a prince again, but that will have to wait until he somehow figures out a way to defeat Thanos.

Thanos’s forces are dogged. His assassins pursue him across three galaxies, never deterred by the deaths of their comrades. Loki is not quite at the top of his game, but it’s good enough to deal with these hired mercenaries. He hopes to recover further by the time Thanos thinks to send his hired skilled assassins after him.

Too late. The magical signature takes him by surprise, one night as he skulking through a back alley somewhere on a backwater satellite. It comes on him fast, a power that feels strangely familiar and he has a moment of terror that the Maw has finally caught up to him, but when the assailant strikes - Loki gets a counter-spell and his knives ready a split second before the attack - instead of Maw’s grey skin and robes, Loki gets a glimpse of long, jet black hair and a tattered black cape. A woman. A sorceress, one that Loki does not know, despite the odd familiarity of her power.

He’s not going to stick around long enough to question her. He parries her attacks until she falters, just a little, makes a single mistake, and Loki has a chance to escape. He flees, slipping through the shadowpaths until he is certain that she has not followed. He waits, catching his breath, but she does not appear.

Another assassin successfully dodged. Thanos will be displeased with her performance. Loki wonders if he will kill her, like he sometimes did to those who failed him. But she seemed too skilled to so easily discard. Perhaps she was a replacement for Gamora, who Loki heard has defected.

He hopes he never sees her again.

His hopes are dashed, as they so often are. In between dodging lower level goons, she appears, clearly aiming to kill. He manages to hold her off for now, but she seems to be gaining strength. Fortunately, he is as well and manages to keep pace.

It’s strange. She is entirely unlike Thanos’s other assassins. She has a singleminded determination that the others lack. And Loki still struggles to place why her power feels so familiar. He is certain they’ve never met - or have they? When he was imprisoned on Asgard, he had begun to suspect that there are things missing from his mind, things from his first stay on Sanctuary that are just gone. Perhaps she had been removed from his mind for some reason. Or maybe he had done it himself, to mask some horrible memory.

Loki becomes fixated on that thought. He doesn’t sleep for several nights, trying to draw out the missing memories but that yields nothing.

The next time the woman appears, he manages to entrap her in a quick web of spellwork. As she struggles in the spells, he approaches with a dagger loose in his hand.

“Who are you?” he says. “How did you come to be in Thanos’s service?”

The woman goes still. She tilts her head at him. “Who's Thanos?”

That brings Loki up short. He opens his mouth to call her out for lying, but before he can a dark blade manifests out of thin air and pierces his shoulder. The shock of pain breaks his concentration and the spells dissolve. He manages to wrench the blade from his shoulder and slip into the shadowpaths before she bears down on him.

Alone again, he drops to his knees. His shoulder is not gravely wounded. It is already slowly stitching back together. The blood flowing over his hands is already slowing.

Not sent from Thanos. Unless she was lying. But Loki knows liars and he detects no falsehood from her. It’s possible that Thanos hired her through a proxy, but that still doesn’t feel right.

No. It seems Loki has a new enemy. One with a vested interest in his death. One whom he has never met.

Well. That’s interesting.

His existence is a deeply lonely one. Multiple times he thinks of ending the chase on his own terms, but finds he cannot do it anymore. He fears he would just fail again and somehow be left in a worse predicament than before. And, whenever he considers it, he hears a quiet voice from deep within him that, in his mothers voice, tells him he is a fool for ever daring to consider taking his own life. Fate has seen fit that he should survive this far. Perhaps he still had some purpose. So suicide is not the answer anymore.

He finds himself thinking a lot about Thor. Imagining old arguments, imagining old adventures. He thinks sometimes of seeking him out on Midgard, but fears his reaction to discovering Loki has faked his death once again.

And he is ashamed of the way that in the dark cold of night, he turns into a pathetic child, running to his older brother for comfort. So he remains alone.

The next time he meets this mysterious woman, she is the one that manages to trap him. At the last moment before her spell encircles him, he throws up a field of his own, leaving him trapped but protected. It won’t last forever, but long enough for him prepare a counter-spell and escape, as he always does.

She tests the forcefield with the flat of her blade. She grins, like the field is not a bother to her. Like she has Loki right where she wants him. That puts him on edge. He keeps a wary eye on her while he works at breaking her spell.

“So it’s occurred to me,” the woman says. “That you really don’t know who I am.”

Distracted, processing this change of subject, Loki doesn’t struggle quite so hard. He keeps working at the counter-spell, but turns more of his attention towards her. “Should I? I don’t believe we’ve ever met before.”

She grins. “My name is Hela.” She watches him for some sort of reaction, but he has none. How could he? The name means nothing to him. She huffs. “Oh for…Really? You’ve really no idea who I am?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Hela? The Goddess of Death?”

“Well, I’ve certainly met Death enough times…”

“Hm.” She frowns. “But you’ve never met me. I am Hela, Odin’s firstborn child, the true heir to the throne of Asgard.”

Loki nearly laughs. “Impossible.”

“It’s not. Odin is my father. I was by his side through the greatest years of his rule, as we conquered the Nine. Until he betrayed me.”

It all gradually comes together. The little bits of evidence that Loki should have picked up but had been too distracted by trying to work out her connection to Thanos. When he really looks at her, he suddenly sees the resemblance and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

“I’m surprised," she continues. "Though perhaps not, Father was always _allergic_ to facing his own mistakes. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t even mention me to you. Just locked me away once he had decided to turn towards peace, had a couple new babies with that Vanir witch he married, never mentioned me again. Wonderful. He likely should have.” She smiles. “Given that he should have known that he was weakening. That his power over my imprisonment was fading.”

_Weakening?_ Was Odin dying? Loki doesn’t have time to contemplate that. He sets it aside, and works harder on breaking his bonds. Hela doesn’t try to break his anymore. She’s too wrapped up in telling her story.

“But of course, as soon as I could, I broke my bonds and soon I will take my rightful place on the throne,” she says. “A few things I have to take care of, first. Loose ends. Possible threats. Of course. Then I’ll have to begin gathering my armies. But I’ve time for all that. I’m patient. I waited for a thousand years for this opportunity. I have the patience to do this right.” She stands up straight, head tossed back. She looks regal, determined. She smiles and it’s sharp, like her blades. “Do you want to hear more, baby brother? Want to hear more about what Asgard was like in her glory days?” He says nothing, so she tells him.

Loki still reels from Hela’s revelation. Shocked, he can say nothing, just gapes at her as she recounts the rest of the story of her fall from grace.

With this burden, she has also given him two great gifts: information, and time.

Hela should have known better than to monologue. It gives him time to gather his magic from around her spells, and slip through the cracks in reality to escape. She realizes what he’s doing at the last second and cries out in anger, but it’s too late. He’s already away.

He finds a lonely, forgotten cave in a deep forest, somewhere in the quadrant of the Nova Corps, but not too close to the center.

He settles down to hide, and to try to understand what Hela had told him. Much comes entirely unsurprisingly. That Odin ruled by an iron fist was common knowledge, that he would have obtained his empire in the same was was only a logical assumption. It is far more difficult to process the presence of another elder sibling, cast off and never mentioned. Not once in a thousand years.

Loki finds himself desperately wishing to speak to Thor about this. Absurd. They’d not discussed anything truly important or emotional in decades. And besides, Thor thought he was dead. Thor was safe in ignorance on Midgard with Jane. Still, Loki wishes they could talk it over, like they would have if this news had come a hundred years ago. Loki’s even tempted to break the illusion and reveal himself in order to deliver the news. But that would involve a lot of yelling and probably violence fierce enough to level several Midgardian structures, so Loki remains hidden and dead, and tries to reevaluated his place in this family for the second time in a decade.

An older sister. Strange. Loki truly does not know what to think of this.

They meet again. And again.

They fight, with knives and magic. Hela seems quite intent to kill him, though he does try to impress upon her that he is the furthest thing from a threat to her rule.

“You never know,” Hela tells him, just before she lunges again. “Best get rid of the competition to be sure.”

Once there’s enough of a pause that Loki manages to ask something he’s been wondering about. “Frigga was not your mother…so who was?”

“A proper Asgardian woman. Fell ill when I was born, never recovered. I didn’t mind. Didn’t need her.”

A few blows with her long black blades, that Loki easily blocks.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t hate Frigga. Certainly, I never called her ‘mother’, Norns that would have been…hideous. But she was interesting. I never really thought Father deserved her. Skilled, intelligent, clever. We clashed terribly but I liked her.”

Loki doesn’t know how to take that. They fall back into their now familiar duel, he eventually finds an opening and flees.

More information. Hela continues to grow ever more interesting. He finds he almost looks forward to her assassination attempts. They honestly make an interesting break from Thanos’s attempts at capturing him.

Unfortunately, the Black Order is getting clever. And more ruthless. After so long sending low level hired mercenaries without success, Thanos has evidently realized he needs to send in more skilled hunters. Loki was unlikely to be able to outrun them for much longer, that was becoming clear. That is, if he survives this encounter.

He managed to kill his assailants, of course. Their corpses lay mangled around him. But he had been ambushed, caught by surprise and they’d gotten a good slice in, right across his thigh, before he could react. A deep wound with a blade coated in poison, as it turns out.

He has to get out of here. Fast. Easier said than done, as blood pumps out of the wound, and his magic sputters and his vision tilts sideways.

Loki clamps his hands around the wound, holding on to consciousness by a thread. From behind him comes the now familiar sound of heeled boots against the stone. The smell of death follows a moment later, the odorous cloud floating towards him.

Loki rasps a laugh. “So, you’ve caught me. You’ve got what you’ve wanted. A chance to eliminate one more threat to your rule. Just make it quick.” He breathes heavily, still desperately looking for a way out.

“Giving up so easily?” Hela asks. She comes into view, her long hair streaming down her back.

The poison burns all it touches. If he were not so accustomed to pain he would be screaming. Sweat drips from his face. “As you can see, I’m in no condition to fight you. So go ahead, take what you want. Kill me. I’d rather be done in by an Asgardian than…” He trails off, unwilling to say the Titan’s name aloud.

Hela hums. She says nothing else.

Loki drops his head. “I ask you to just make it quick,” he begs as the last of his strength flees. Darkness is coming quickly. She’ll make it faster than Thanos at least. Even if she chooses to just watch him bleed out, it will be faster than whatever would have been waiting for him on Sanctuary.

Hela doesn’t move, looking at him curiously, head tilted. Loki doesn’t care anymore. He has another absurd moment of desperately wishing Thor was there, before the ground rushes up towards him and-

Hela is a bitch. She doesn’t make it quick. Loki slides in and out of agonizing consciousness for what feels like days. The fever burns him, the pain in his leg grows white hot and travels to his chest, as if the Kursed’s wound had reopened. He begs for death. He fights Hela when he’s aware of her presence, in the hopes of provoking her into killing him. None of it works. He remains locked in agony, in a body that suffers and refuses to die.

He doesn’t know why she will not release him to death. She claims to be the goddess of it, why will this bitch not live up to her adopted moniker?

Slowly, it dawns on him that the pain has started to ebb. He can sleep for a while without the horrible fever dreams and hallucinations. When he wakes again, he finds the pain faded to a dull roar and his mind is clearer. He is lying in a bed, cover in rough, tattered blankets. His hands are bound to the frame with soft cloths. His leg burns but the wound has been wrapped. The room is filled with the smell of pungent herbs. Loki experimentally tries the bonds. They slip a little, but hold. He should be able to break them, if he allows himself to gain a bit more strength.

“You kept fighting me,” Hela’s voice comes from by the windows. She is still blurred, but clearing by the moment.

“Well, I was hoping it would make you kill me.” He affects as much of a casual tone as he can. “Might I ask why you did not?”

“Hm, I don’t know.” She turns her back on him, looking out the window. “I suppose I thought…we may be of some use to each other.”

Loki narrows his eyes. “I told you, I’m not interested in your quest for-”

“I don’t really care what you want.” She is silent for a minute. “I’ve met several others since last we met. I met Odin’s other... _son_.” She says the word like it offends her.

“Ah.” Loki swallows. “I can’t imagine he was thrilled.”

“I left him alone. He was on Midgard, with a mortal woman. Not a threat, for now at least. Then I met Thanos.”

Loki’s blood runs cold. He cannot suppress the shudder at the name being spoken aloud.

“Yes. Interesting fellow. His ideas…are…hm. They’re…concerning.”

“You should know that sheltering me is likely to bring his attention upon you. Quickly.”

“Oh, I think I can handle him.”

Loki feels absolutely relieved. He should feel equally wary of being at Hela’s mercy, but finds that he is flooded with a sense of unlikely relief, that he is not alone in this struggle against Thanos anymore.

It’s started to rain outside. Loki’s vision has cleared enough to see clouds and mountains beyond.

Hela remains silent for several minutes. “I didn’t know that Frigga had died,” she says, almost too quietly to hear. Loki feels a stab in his chest that has nothing to do with the Kursed’s wound. “You’re very young, you know.” She falls back into a silence reverie, then shakes herself out of it, turning back towards him. “No. I don’t know why I saved your life. But I think we might be of use to each other.”

“Well,” Loki says with a wavering smile. “I suppose that’s a start, of a sort.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whew. WHAT A DAY. What a week. What a decade somehow in the last like...36 hours. I honestly kept forgetting to post today, because I was just...so distracted. Whew. 
> 
> Anyway, here's another 'wild AU that really ends at the start of something.' I'm not sure if I'll be following up _any_ of these prompts, but there are a few (Thursday's included as well) that I am definitely like...thinking over a possible sequel. I'd also like to do a version from Hela's perspective, so we get a bit more of a picture of her heel turn. XD
> 
> I've long really liked the idea of Hela as like...the villain that kind of turns into a protector once Thanos comes into the picture. Like, 'aw hell no, who's this guy?' so I felt like she and Loki were a perfect pair for the 'enemy to caretaker' prompt. And I've always been a big fan of the random headcanon that she and Frigga were like bitter rivals but actually secretly really respected each other. So Hela was rather shook by finding out she was dead.
> 
> Anyway! Hope you enjoy! As always, kudos/comments/shares/frogs always appreciated! I'm going to go...try to deal with all the emotions from just...this whole week. Happy Saturday! <3


End file.
